AN INVITATION TO BE RENEWED

[Matthew 11:25-30]

          Introduction to the Scriptures: Jesus is speaking to his disciples and all who would listen. Indeed he is speaking with us, so I want you to hear that invitation as a very personal one today, an invitation to be renewed.

          Matthew 11:25-30: “At that time Jesus said, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.’” They are simple to understand. Without education we can still understand what it is that God is saying to us.

[Read Matthew 11:26-30]

          I hope you can begin to see what a remarkable thing Jesus was saying to his disciples. We’ve become familiar with the words, but he reminds them just before he gives this invitation that he knows the Father intimately and the Father knows him. So these words reveal the heart and soul of the Father. This is the God of the Old Testament whom we think of as harsh and judgmental and demanding – you know The Ten Commandments that we are going to be looking at together and some of us are going to be considering even at the base of Mt. Sinai in a few days. He says, I know the heart of the Father, and here is my invitation. I’m gentle and I am humble in heart. I want to give you rest for your souls if you will come to me. My yoke is easy, my burden is light.

Prayer for Illumination – Lord, we confess as we come to you today that probably most of us, I guess all of us here, have been carrying a good deal more than we need to carry. Our minds perhaps go, first of all, to the responsibilities – maybe we can set a couple of those aside or pass them along to someone else – and perhaps we can. Perhaps they are not high priorities. But we also carry the burden of our own sin, of our own ignorance, of our own rebellion. We burden ourselves down with all kinds of things you don’t want us carrying, that we ought not to be carrying. They become a weight on our shoulders. They beat us down. We become weary with a burden we are not equipped to carry. So I pray that we would listen to you openly and honestly today, that we would hear your invitation, yes, and the encouragement of it, but hear also what it is truly that you are asking of us, what our response needs to be. Father, I pray that you would speak through me, through my words and around them and beyond them as necessary, because all of us come with a need to hear and to understand and be encouraged to respond to your invitation. So we ask your Spirit to move powerfully among us through Christ Jesus our living Lord, AMEN.

Message

          “Bonnie” doesn’t look like an angel. She is a tough, dark-skinned Miskito Indian from the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua, with close-cropped black hair, enormous biceps, stab-wounds in her chest, a loud, infectious laugh, and perhaps the quickest smile you’ll ever see. But she is an angel – a street angel in Managua who, when I met her some time back, strapped on a backpack full of treats and first-aid supplies every morning and walked into the “Alley of Death” deep within the crime-ridden open markets of the city in search of abandoned children, some as young as 5-years old, who struggle to survive on those mean and unforgiving streets.

          One day I followed her into that infernal pit where we spent several hours tracking down children who were living in abandoned buildings, sleeping on the streets, surviving by stealing food from the markets (and we saw that around us happening all the time), and escaping from this sordid reality by sniffing from bottles of glue which gave them a false sense of euphoria, an escape for at least a few moments or a few hours while it slowly destroyed their brains. I met David, maybe 13 years of age. Barely conscious, he lifted his head from a dirty table in the park, trying to focus his eyes and screw his face into a crooked smile as he lifted one glue-covered hand rather awkwardly to greet me. The glue had already done its destruction to his brain. We swabbed out a nasty cut on another boy’s hand with disinfectant and bandaged it up to give some small protection against the infection which was sure to invade any open wound in that filthy place. Then there was Pablo, a handsome young boy maybe 12-years old, passed out on a park bench, his glue jar almost empty, who listened without expression to Bonnie’s invitation to come off the streets and into their half-way house, an invitation he had heard from her – and from our daughter Taleigh who was working with her – many times. He responded eventually, “I’ll leave the glue behind when I find a family that will love me.”

          A few miles away, our daughter Taleigh, who was working those same streets, was that day showing Carreen through their Filter House which transitions kids off the streets and into programs which begin to train them and educate them and give them a sense of self-worth and of love. The difference, even in children only a few weeks off the streets, was absolutely astonishing! They were clean, they were courteous, they were full of laughter and curiosity, they were diligent in taking their classes, learning trades, sharing chores there in the Filter House, uncomplaining and gracious – at least the day we saw them(!) – as they helped each other out.

          We watched a young boy just a short time off the streets ironing clothes for a younger one who had just come in a couple of days earlier. We saw them polishing each other’s shoes, sharing a myriad of tasks that began to give some meaning, some purpose, some direction back to their lives. This starkly alternative world was available to each of the boys I had met on the streets, and each had received many invitations to come and to participate in that alternative world – no requirements other than to leave behind what little they had that was destroying them on the streets and to come, just to come. The help, the nourishment, the love – it was all there waiting for them if they would come. But in order for them to take advantage of it, they would have to leave their familiar habitat that had no doubt become, in some distorted way, familiar and even to some extent secure for them. They would have to take the initiative to come and make themselves available for the care and the healing and the love that was being offered. The moment they were willing to take that initiative, their lives could begin to change dramatically for the better. But they had to decide, and decide on their own, to come. No one was going to take them by the collar and drag them in. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway without their will to be a part of that new community, although we certainly would have carried them in if they were unable but willing.

          It’s not such an extraordinary concept. What was it that was required of the Prodigal Son in Jesus’ popular parable? He didn’t have to earn his father’s favor, you will remember. He didn’t have to have the resources to make it in the outside world. His father was prepared to give him everything he needed – and to give him much more out of his generous heart! But first what did the son have to do? He had to take the initiative to leave behind the sordid lifestyle which was destroying him and simply come and make himself available to the father who loved him. All the resources and all the support for his life were going to be found there. But no one was going to drag him home by the collar. He had to decide to come of his own volition. Without that commitment on his part, nothing could be done to help him. I am sure we break the heart of God, even as we felt, as you would feel, as one could not help but feel, a brokenness in our hearts as we met those children on the streets and knew there was help and there was hope for them which they were, to that point at least, unwilling to accept.

          What was it Jesus was always saying? What did he say to his disciples when he called them? He said, “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. [You don’t have the strength to do this, but I’ll do it if you simply come. But you have to take the initiative to come.]” Like the prodigal’s father, he was willing to do for them what they could not do for themselves. But he would not force it upon them. They had to choose to come. He would lift them and carry them if necessary, but it had to be their will. They would have to decide for themselves to come to him. Peter and James and John and the others did that as you know; they responded to his invitation and their lives were transformed, and these simple fishermen, blue collar workers from around Galilee, became heros who would change the course of history, the course of our world, the course of our own personal lives. There were others, however, who, for reasons of their own, decided not to respond. What might have happened had they said yes to the invitation? There was that rich young ruler, remember, who was interested, was a man with apparently fine skills and sensitivity. He desired what Jesus had to offer, but he could not bring himself to let go of what he was holding on to and respond to Jesus’ invitation. He was afraid to let go of his independence, I think, and risk the security he thought he had in the material goods, the things he had built for himself, and so he went away sad unwilling to come, to trust himself, if you will, to Jesus.

          This morning, as every morning, Jesus offers each of us the very same invitation. I think about those boys on the park benches, getting the invitation day after day and not responding. Is that happening with any of us? The verse, the heart of our text this morning, says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” It is a simple and beautiful invitation. It is really not complex. It is not difficult to understand. In fact, it is more than an invitation. Let me tell you a few things about this simple verse. It is more than an invitation; it is actually an exhortation. I looked up the word for “come” used here, and it is not the one that is normally used when we are saying, “Why don’t you come by?” In fact, it doesn’t really even mean “come” except in this context. It means “Here!” or “Hither!” It’s like “Come out!” “Come over here!” It is an exhortation. It is used only in that kind of a context. It is not simply, “Drop by if you have a chance.” “I’d love to see you.” It is almost an order – “Come on! You don’t want to stay where you are. Come over here!” It is a word that would normally be used with gestures, waving a person in. That is the kind of word it is.

          Come then. “Come to me . . .” Jesus says. And who is he talking to? Who is he inviting to come? Who is he beckoning to come? “All [of] you who are weary and burdened,“ the New International Version translates it. Those two words are strong enough, even as we know them in English, “weary” and “burdened.” But they are really powerful words in the Greek. The word “weary” used here comes from the noun kopos, which actually means “a beating.” The force of this word is for a person who is battle-weary, who’s been beaten up. It involves a physical, mental and emotional, a spiritual tiredness induced by strenuous effort and exertion. One is so weary it seems he has been beaten up. We use words that way ourselves when we talk about that in our own experience when we are at our lowest – when it seems like life is just “beating up” on us. That’s the word for weary here. That ‘s the person Jesus is addressing. He says, Yes, I know life beats up on you sometimes. That’s why I’m begging you “Come to me,” I’ve got something better for you. It describes a person who is utterly exhausted, worn out by their battles. He says, Come, come, I want to restore you.

          And the word for “burdened” has to do with loading cargo on a ship. There are days, I know, when you feel that way about your responsibilities, or the way David felt about trying to get that pack on his back during the children’s message this morning. Someone just keeps loading things on you and you say, I can’t carry these any more. This is more than I can handle. You’ve been flattened by the load you are trying to bear. Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are [battle] weary” and you who are loaded down with more than you can possibly carry, and “I will give you rest.” I know you are carrying things you ought not to carry, things you need not carry, “Come to me, . . . my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

          Here, once again, is a bit of a surprise, because he does not say, Come and I’ll give you rest, I’ll tuck you in and let you catch up on your sleep. There are days when that would be a good thing too, and I’m happy to hear him say it whenever he happens to. We’d appreciate it, but in addition to that sort of rest the word for “rest” here is a bigger word. It means to refresh or renew or reinvigorate. If you want to use “rest,” then it is the rest we find in the word restore. That kind of rest. I will make sure you receive the energy you need for the task at hand, he says. I’m not going to take away everything you might carry, but I will give you the energy you need to carry it. He is not suggesting he is going to remove all our responsibilities. He is saying, No we’ll get the responsibilities you really need and then I will equip you to carry them. I’ll make you fishers of men. I’ll shape you into the person I intend for you to be. I will restore your weary soul.

          All of you will remember Psalm 23 of course, I think the most loved of all passages in the Scriptures when we’re facing death, when we’re facing difficulty, to think about the shepherd that cares for us. What does it say? “The LORD [Yahweh, the Creator of the universe who revealed himself to us personally, He is the one who] is my shepherd,” I know I will want for nothing. “He makes me to lie down” . . . sheep won’t lie down until their basic needs are met; “He makes me to lie down in green pastures [where those needs are met, where I’m fed and where I’m nourished], he leads me beside still waters [where when I’m thirsty I can take a drink – sheep want to drink out of the still water, not running water], he restores my soul.” That is the invitation here. Come on, are you paying attention. I’m inviting you, I’m beckoning you. Come, I will give you rest for your weary soul. I will give you all that you need, and I will restore you.

          Now there is something that is still required of us. We are about the adventure of life. There is a task at hand. There are things for us to do. I want to be doing something. I think you want to be doing something too. Sometimes you are so weary, you would just like to lie down. But he is not calling us to lethargy or inaction. He says, No there’s a wonderful life to be lived, but you might be wasting your time and your energy on enormous burdens that you really don’t need to carry. We have been burdened down with extraneous things that are really not important. We are trying to carry things we ought not to be carrying. Don’t do it, he says. That is only going to exhaust you. Rather, in verse 29 that follows our key text today, he says, “Take my yoke upon you [trying to carry the things you think are important is not going to work; take my yoke upon you] and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

          Sometimes I think we are tempted to just check out, to opt out of the human race if we could, and hope maybe that will restore us – Don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, don’t ask me for anything; I want to get back and do nothing and maybe I’ll be restored. God says, No, there are wonderful things to do. In fact, in the doing you’ll find a certain amount of restoration. But believe me, you can find restoration if you are doing the things I’m calling you to do. I’ll restore the energy of your souls so that you can participate with joy and energy and delight in the adventure of life.

          So there is the invitation. It is simple and it is straightforward, and I trust it will be for you as it is for me very compelling. You will no doubt identify with many of the circumstances that have been described here by Jesus’ words, weary and burdened. Has life really beaten up on you? Are you trying to carry far more than is reasonable? Many of you I think would say, “That does describe my life!” Well, Jesus says, “Come, come to me!” He finds us in our distress but he does not say, “Well, you got yourself into this mess, now you can get yourself out!” He doesn’t say “Stop your whining!” He doesn’t say, “If you do this and this and this it will get better.” No, he just says, “Come!” “Come to me.” “Don’t try to carry anything except what I give you. You will find it easy to carry. You will find the burden light.”

          That should be compelling. Why is it we turn the invitation down? There is something that seems too difficult for us, isn’t there? For to come to him (I think this is where the problem lies) involves a surrendering of our self-will. As long as I am in charge of my life, I feel a certain security in that, but I am carrying things I don’t need to carry. There is a way, as God’s word says, that seems right to a man, but the end thereof is the way of death. Do I trust Him? To come to Him means to accept His priorities and not simply our own. “I think I know what is best.” He says, “No, you don’t know what is best. I do, so listen to me.” That, I am afraid, is why so many of those children in Managua refused to come in spite of the fact that they were obviously dying on the streets. There was no future in the direction they were walking, but they did not want to give up their independence – even if it killed them! And it was killing them. It was starkly obvious to us that it was killing them. It is not so obvious in our circumstances, but the truth is the same – walking our own way, holding on to our own priorities instead of Christ’s, is killing us as well. We don’t want to give up our independence, we don’t want to accept God’s priorities even if it kills us. Jesus says, Trust me, you’re going to have to lay that aside if you are going to know anything better. Only then can you come and find rest for your souls.

          Of course if we will come to Jesus (here’s the key, you don’t learn it until you do it), the key is if we come and and surrender our wills to Him, our wills are not lost – they are liberated! They are set free. Up to now our wills have been enslaved by our own passions, by our own desires, by our own ignorance. He says, I’ll set you free from that so you can be all that you ever imagined and more. It is only when we bring our wills to Him and surrender them that we are truly set free, free to be all that He designed and created us to be. So nothing is lost in the bargain, is it? We think we are giving something up, but what we have gained so far supersedes it that nothing has truly been lost at all. Everything is gained. But as with the prodigal son, God will not impose this opportunity for refreshment on us. If we will come, however, it is ours.

          Sometimes in the middle of our stress and distress we ask, Why isn’t God doing something. Of course, He is doing something, just not what we expected. He is not off-loading our burdens. He is not saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to give you anything difficult to do.” Rather He is saying, “Come to me.” I can make it better. But you have to trust me. You have to carry the burden that I desire for you to carry and no other. You will find my burden light. You will find you have the energy to carry it.

          All right, if you are convinced, then the question is: what’s involved in coming to Jesus? I think it is very simple, really. It means we are going to approach Him consistently. Where do we nourish a relationship with Jesus Christ? Where do we nourish the relationship with our Father? It was so important that God arranged the whole of our lives around the rhythm of the week so that there would be a Sabbath, there would be a time for worship, a time dedicated to our relationship with Him. We say, You know, I am so tired; I work so hard all week (how many times have I heard this?), Sunday is the only morning we can sleep in, the only time we can kind of get away to the mountains. He says, You are carrying a burden that is just going to destroy you. You want refreshment for your soul? You will find it in pursuing that relationship with me. Worship is at the heart of the rest He offers. You are here. You’ve taken that first step. God is meeting you here.

          But it means as well that we are going to need to submit to His word when we hear it. We will listen and we’ll take it seriously as a guide for our lives – not just “isn’t that nice,” but, how does that rearrange the priorities, the way we are going about the business of life ourselves. If we are honestly coming to Jesus, we will be wanting to hear His voice, both in His Word, and in prayer, so we will be spending time meditating on that word and praying and listening – not just telling God all the things we think we need from Him, but listening to what He is asking of us.

          It will mean that we will organize every one of our days, not just the Sabbath, but all of our days so that we can be refreshed in His presence in some way. We’ll be talking to Him throughout the day. We will be finding time we can set aside to nourish our relationship with Him. It means we will lay aside the burden not only of responsibilities we don’t need to carry, that are not high priority, but the burden of sin which weighs us down as well. It means we will seriously say to God: I know, I thought I could carry that, but it’s destroying me. I’m going to let go of it. It means we are coming with the intention of surrendering our will to Him – not to accomplish something, but just to BE in His presence, to be renewed, to be refreshed, to be all He intended for us to be, equipped for whatever He calls us to share.

          There will always be things to do. We’re not offering here an escape from things to do, Jesus says, we’re offering you the opportunity to have your soul restored so that you can enjoy the adventure, you can enjoy the journey. Paul says in Philippians 4:13, There will be plenty of things to do, but “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” It is the difference between being beaten down and crushed by the burdens of life, and simply being renewed in His presence. But we cannot neglect it, and we must trust Him in order for that promise to take effect in our lives.

          This morning, I have the privilege of bringing that invitation to you. I am not saying anything that seems particularly profound, and yet in its simplicity I think it is perhaps one of the most profound things we can hear. I do not know what each of you may be facing right now in your life, but I do know where you can find strength to face it. I do know where you can find the energy you need and the vision you need to deal with whatever it is that you are facing. And I want to simply invite you today to come, as Jesus did, to come to Him, to come into the presence of the Living God, the presence of Jesus Christ, the Son of God who walked among us, who understands our burden and our concern, for it is there alone that we can find forgiveness for our sins, refreshment for our spirits, and strength for the journey which lies ahead.

          I think that is all I need to say this morning, but I would like, during the time of communion we are about to share, for you to take the opportunity to just reflect and listen, to reflect on the promises God has made, to listen for His voice in your soul, and just allow yourself to be embraced by His Spirit. He is not demanding of us that we take on a greater load. He is saying, Set aside those things that burden you down, take my yoke upon you. My yoke is easy, my burden is light. You are being invited to His table today, and it is at His table that you will find nurture for your souls. It is here in the mystery of communion that the physical and the spiritual find themselves united. We cannot see Christ whose presence supersedes the material world, but in these material elements we encounter the living Christ, and He has come to refresh your soul. Welcome to the feast!

Closing prayer – Father, we do not deserve to be called your sons and daughters, as the prodigal confessed. But, as the prodigal’s father interrupted, he said, This is my son. I want to honor him. This is my child, I want to love him, I want to love her. May we find that also as we simply come to you to be unburdened of our sins, of responsibilities we need not or ought not to carry, as we find what you call us to do and the energy it will require to do just that. And in that following, in that trusting, may we find from you the joy that you intended for us from the beginning. We ask these things in the name of Jesus, AMEN.